


The fight - expansion

by CrushedRose



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Lack of Communication, M/M, fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 09:36:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9601976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrushedRose/pseuds/CrushedRose
Summary: As requested,  the expansion of the fight,  chapter 56 of thr 365 work.Not necessarily to have read that one, as it is included in this one.





	1. 3

** The fight -  Expansion **

** Chapter 1 **

 

The door slammed with a thud that rattled the frame.

"How the hell was I supposed to know it would offend the man?" Greg yelled as he ripped off his tie.  Mycroft stood in silence removing his coat.

"It is a well-known Japanese custom." Greg stared at Mycroft.

"Oh it is, is it?" Sarcasm dripping down his voice.

"You know it is Gregory."

"No Mycroft I bloody hell did not. Where the hell am I supposed to learn that?"

Mycroft breathed deep as he started climbing the stairs.

"It is taught in most private schools and refining institutions that you do not leave your chopsticks upright in your bowl of food. It is offered to the dead and considered to invite bad omens to the table."

"Well doo da dee, I wasn't in a private school, I didn't attend a refining school so I didn't know that my chopsticks upright in my food would bring the sodding grim reaper to dinner!" Greg retorted as he started following Mycroft up the stairs. 

"So I discovered, however I did thought that you would use some sense and follow the rest at the table." Mycroft replied.  Greg stopped.

"Oh monkey see, monkey do?"

Mycroft stopped as well and turned around, his face betraying his confusion.

"Gregory, the point is that I need to do a lot of strategic planning to rectify this mistake of yours."

"You mean kissing arse to fix your dumb boyfriend's lack of social skills?"

"To make it understandable on your level; yes. Now I'm tired and done with this conversation." Mycroft continued his ascent up the stairs, leaving Greg on the bottom.  Hurt and feeling inadequate.

"My level?  If I'm such an embarrassment to you why did you take me with?" Mycroft failed to notice the pain in Greg’s voice as he turned to their room.

"I wasn't aware of the ignorance in your knowledge, next time I'll properly prepare you. Now come on, it's getting late." With that he disappeared in the room, the hallway lit up with light as Mycroft switched the light on.  Greg stood there on the steps his eyes burning.  He looked around the room, all evident of money and class and his mood turned even darker. He turned around and picked up his coat and his wallet. His phone still in his inner jacket.

 

Slowly and with heavy feet he opened the front door and left, his heart breaking with every step, knowing that this fight could be the fight that changes everything.  He is so way out of Mycroft’s private school and refining institution league that even his common sense and ignorance was beyond par.

It took Mycroft ten minutes to realise Greg didn't follow him up. He stepped out the room into the hallway.  It was dark.

"Gregory?" There was no answer.  With his heart beating faster and mind panicking he switched the hallway light on. The stairway was empty.  With even more panic he rushed down the stairs and into every room.  It was all empty; stopping into the foyer his eyes ran over everything until it came to rest near the door.  Ten minutes ago, Greg’s coat was hanging there.  It wasn’t now.

"Oh God no.  Gregory!" He yelled.   Lifting out his phone he dialled.  There was no answer; he waited till the message alert kicked in.

 

_"Gregory I'm sorry.  Please come back.  Gregory.  Please."_

 

The fight replayed in his mind and as he realised the mistake he made he crumbled to the first step of the stairs, his head in his hands.

XXXXX

Greg didn't think about where he was going, he just got into his car and drove aimlessly around.   The pain of the fight still fresh in his mind, and the fight itself replaying on an endless loop in his ears.  He stopped when he noticed he was at the Yard. He gave a hollow laugh, why is it that every time he gets upset he finds himself at his work. 'Because the Yard never cheated on you, nor looked down at your level of upbringing' his mind provided for him. 

Sighing he parked his car and made his way up to his office.  There was only skeleton staff on duty so no one noticed him as he made his way to his office.  Once inside he didn't even bother to switch the light on, after so many years he knew exactly where everything was.  He shrugged off his jacket and lay down on the sofa.  It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it did made a good substitute bed in the past, no way it can't now as well.

As he laid there he noticed for the first time his phone's blinking light.  One missed call and one voice message.  Mycroft tried to call him. Greg briefly wondered how long it took him to realise Greg left. Then again, with his mood he didn't really care.  Pressing the necessary buttons he listened to the voice mail.

 

_"Gregory I'm sorry.  Please come back.  Gregory.  Please."_

 

Greg swallowed as tears threatened to fall, Mycroft sounded so worried and remorseful and what was that scared? He was too tired to neither get up from the sofa nor drive back.  The likelihood of him sleeping peacefully tonight is scarce but he had to try.  Maybe he should at least let Mycroft know he was safe.

He started typing.

_"My, I'm not coming home tonight....."_

No.

He tried again.

_"My, I'm safe for tonight, we can talk....."_

No.

_"Why? I don’t want to."_

He tried several times but kept deleting each try.

Finally he found the right words.  He grimaced; apparently he was so stupid he couldn't even send a decent text. He looked again. 

 

_"Mycroft.  I'm safe. GL."_

 

Yeah, sweet and short. He clicked on send and then put his phone on the floor and turned around to face the backrest.  Using his jacket as blanket he managed to fall asleep some time later.   His phone beeped again but he didn't hear it.

 

XXXXX

 

Mycroft on the other hand didn't move from his spot on the steps, his phone clutched in his hand as he realised Greg left home. Their home. He had no idea where he would go or what he would do. He couldn't think as his mind decided on a lock down and freeze on the words he said to Greg.   How on earth could he say those things?  It was horrible and cold and so unfeeling.  'Your level', 'properly prepare you.' He didn't know how long he sat there so when the phone beeped with a text he was startled.  His fingers felt slow as he opened the message box to read the message.  It was from Greg. 

 

_"Mycroft.  I'm safe. GL."_

 

Mycroft stared at the message hoping it would automatically give him more information, but it didn't.  His name- full name - not 'My' or 'love' he hated it. He's safe? What the hell does that mean?  How can he make deductions about that? Those two words can have so many meanings.  It says nothing!  Not where he was, whether he was coming home or anything.  It was enough to drive him even more frustrated than before.  How is he supposed to react to that? He needed more information, more reliable data.

Taking a breath he opened the text box again. 

 

**"Gregory, I know you probably don't want to talk to me, but please let me know where you are?  Are you okay?  It's cold outside, are you warm? Please.  I need to know.  Can we talk?  Are you coming home?  Please come home.  MH"**

 

He knew he sounded near begging but didn't care. He messed up and might lose the best thing he ever had.

He hit the reply button and waited. 

And waited. 

It was one in the morning when he finally stood up from the stairs, wherever Greg was, he can hope it was safe and he was okay and he didn't reply because he didn't read the message yet.  The alternative just wasn't an option. 

As he walked into the bedroom he felt like crying.  The bed was so big and empty without Greg.  It looked cold and uninviting, so he just turned around and made his way to the living room.  He was going to sleep on the sofa. His mind not releasing him from the thoughts of Greg, nor the pain in his voice when he asked why Mycroft puts up with him.  It replayed and replayed until he finally fell asleep mentally exhausted. 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

** The fight -  Expansion **

** Chapter 2 **

** **

The next morning Greg woke up it was to a very stiff neck, a back that didn't feel like supporting him, at all. 

His mood was dark, his suit a bit wrinkled and he seriously needed a shower.   

The shower he could do, and he might still have a clean shirt in his locker, however the suit will have to go for another day.  

Picking up his phone he noticed that it was off, the battery had run out during the night.  He quickly plugged it in his spare charger at his desk, and then made his way to the kitchen.  A good or rather strong cup of coffee was needed before he at least tries to wake up properly.  

 

It was still too early for the rest, allowing him to get a decent coffee in without anyone noticing the state he was in.  He quickly drank the first cup before he made another one to take with him to the showers.  

Walking into the bathroom he stopped,  he had such a nice and big shower at home, with a variety of water pressure,  bubble bath, shower gels that smell so real, that Mycroft would roll his eye as Greg would keep smelling them.....no. this won't do.  Shaking his head he chose the shower the furthest away from the door and started to undress.  

 

 

 

When Mycroft wake up, it took him a minute to figure out why he was sleeping on the sofa, in the clothes he was still wearing.  As he remembered he grabbed his phone to see is Greg had replied.  Nothing.  

He was at a loss, he had no idea on how to proceed from now, does he use his resources to find out where Greg was,  or should he do nothing and wait for Greg to make the first move? 

No. 

He has to make the first move, the mistake was his and it is up to him to rectify it. 

First he needed a shower and clean clothes and then he'll go to the Yard.  Hopefully the public setting will make sure no one scream at each other.  

Making his mind up he went upstairs to the shower. The radio was playing, Greg had this notion to make his alarm clock the radio and Mycroft kind of agreed as it will give him a heads up on the day's events.

As he undressed a song started playing, one that he immediately liked, as he listened to the lyrics he stopped and sat on the bed, the words haunting him.  

 

_ It's not a silly little moment _

_ It's not the storm before the calm _

_ This is the deep and dyin' breath of _

_ This love we've been workin' on _

_ Can't seem to hold you like I want to _

_ So I can feel you in my arms _

_ Nobody's gonna come and save you _

_ We pulled too many false alarms _

_ We're goin' down _

_ And you can see it too _

_ We're goin' down _

_ And you know that we're doomed _

_ My dear _

_ We're slow dancing in a burnin' room _

_ I was the one you always dreamed of _

_ You were the one I tried to draw _

_ How dare you say it's nothing to me _

_ Baby, you're the only light I ever saw _

_ I'll make the most of all the sadness _

_ You'll be a bitch because you can _

_ You try to hit me, just hurt me _

_ So you leave me feeling dirty _

_ 'Cause you can't understand _

_ We're goin' down _

_ And you can see it too _

_ We're goin' down _

_ And you know that we're doomed _

_ My dear _

_ We're slow dancing in a burnin' room _

_ Go cry about it, why don't you _

_ Go cry about it, why don't you _

_ Go cry about it, why don't you _

_ My dear, we're slow dancin' in a burnin' room _

_ Burnin' room, burnin' room _

_ Don't you think we outta know by now? _

_ Don't you think we shoulda learned somehow? _

_ Don't you think we outta know by now? _

_ Don't you think we shoulda learned somehow? _

_ Don't you think we outta know by now? _

_ Don't you think we shoulda learned somehow? _

_   _

Mycroft couldn’t help but think about his relationship with Greg.  They were so different and with such different viewpoint on life, yet they work. Somehow they just work. There are so many things that could go wrong in their relationship, so many obstacles that they have to overcome on a daily basis and yet he was the one to go ruin it.   They were supposed to be a team, and he broke it up. 

 

The question now is, will they still be a team, or did their relationship died? 

Have their relationship been slowly burning to death and he didn't realise it?  There was no signs, they were happy, strong and committed.  However the words he said last night was horrible, and he wished there was a way he could use all his resources and power to turn back time and do it again, to do it better.  He needed Greg; he can't do this without him, any of this. He was only half a person until Greg showed up. 

 

He has to fix this, no doubt about it, and the first thing he needed to do was find out where he was.  Lifting up his phone he sent a few texts. There is absolutely no way that his relationship with Greg is going to end up like that song.  With a sense of new purpose he made his way to the shower.  

 

 

 

By the time Greg was finished he managed to get back to his office in one piece, all body parts working, a hot shower can do miracles on sore and stiff muscles.   His spare shirt was still in good condition, and had little to no wrinkles.  With his now empty mug he decided on waiting a while before making a fresh cup, or he could always order something to eat and have coffee then. He is hungry now that he thinks about it.   That sounds like a plan, opening his browser he started looking for places that's open and delivering.  

While he checked that he switched on his phone as well. Once the welcoming screen faded an incoming text alert buzzed. 

Opening the text he frowned as he read it, it was from Mycroft. 

 

_ "Gregory, I know you probably don't want to talk to me, but please let me know where you are.  Are you okay?  It's cold outside, are you warm? Please.  I need to know.  Can we talk?  Are you coming home?  Please come home.  MH" _

 

He begged twice.  That is very unusual and so unlike Mycroft.  Mycroft would never under normal circumstances send him a text like this; it would make him look very vulnerable and weak. So the fact that he indeed sent it was worrisome.  Did he regret saying those things?  Is he just trying to play a mind game? Is it strategic? What is the plan with this? Greg read it again, and could hear the desperation in his voice, the rush for answers and clarity.  Greg felt a pang of regret as he missed the text, what must Mycroft thought when he didn't reply?  

Did he worry?  

He sat there for a long time, just staring at the text, he was so confused about all of this, and he had no idea what to do and they will have to talk about it.  But what does one say to rectify this,  Greg had never in his life felt more unworthy of everything in his life than he did in that moment.  He felt like something the cat dragged in - some broken down rodent or bird - as a price for the owner.  There was always this big chasm between him and Mycroft in so many aspects, their upbringing, their background, financial status, and education.  He learned that the hard way.

 

The thing is though, can they overcome this? Can he forgive Mycroft for those words and go on as if nothing had happened?   What about the next dinner or function, will he always feel left out? As if he didn't belong? According to evidence he doesn't.  Is this it? Will they recover from this?  

He had no idea, what he did know is that he and Mycroft needs to have a serious talk. 

 

Sighing deeply he started typing.  

 

Mycroft was finished and ready to go when his phone beeped.   With slightly trembling hands he picked up his phone and opened the message.  It was from Greg. 

 

_ "My, I slept at the office, as in warm or comfortable I won't answer. We have to talk, and I think it is best if we do it somewhere private and alone.  Are you at the office or home? GL." _

 

Mycroft sagged with relief, it is a good sign that he wants to talk.  He quickly typed back. 

 

** "Still at home, when will suit you? MH" **

 

_ "Now? GL" _

 

** "I'll start the coffee. MH"  **

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

** The fight -  Expansion **

** Chapter 3 **

Mycroft eyed the message before he lifted his phone and made the necessary arrangements to so he would have no interruptions for the rest of the day.  After that he made his way to the kitchen, knowing Gregory, there is a very good chance he hasn’t eaten yet as well.  He wondered if he should make breakfast, then again, with the way he feels, if Gregory felt the same, food will be the last thing on his mind.  Still, something light might work.  Some toast might be good.  Rolling up his sleeves he started.

 

Greg on the other hand, had it a bit harder to get the day off, but the way he looked and felt; with a bit of acting to go along with it, he was able to leave within half an hour.  As he drove home, he felt nauseas and stressed.  He had no idea what was waiting for him, are they going to have a screaming match?  Talk like adults? Or just stumble over their mouths, trying to figure out what to say.  He had no idea, but whatever happens they need to resolve this. 

He still had no idea what to say, but one thing he hasn’t changed his mind, and that is that he isn’t ready to call quits on this relationship.  Yes they had their ups and down and obstacles, but they worked it out.  It took them a lot of years and hard work to get to where they were now; he doesn’t want to turn his back on it.  The question is, does Mycroft feel the same?  Did he finally decide he had enough of plain of average Greg?  The text message says otherwise, but it won’t be the first time he allowed a text to play with his mind.

As he entered the driveway, his nervousness reach new heights, the adrenalin is making his stomach crazy and he regretted the two mugs of coffee.  Parking the car he made his way inside, his dirty shirt bundled up over his arm, Mycroft would throw a fit when he sees it.   Sighing he lifted his shirt and tried to give it a shake, in the hope that it would improve the wrinkles.  It didn’t help.  Opening the door he went in, and was overcome with the smell of coffee - the good stuff and some toast.  He was actually a little bit hungry, maybe that’s why the adrenalin on his stomach seemed so bad.

Hanging up his jacket he placed his keys and wallet in the bowl at the door, Mycroft’s umbrella was still standing upright and Greg smiled. With a fond smile he ran his fingers over the handle.  He loved that man. 

“My?” he called out, not yelling, but loud enough to carry through the halls.   He received no answer instead Mycroft stood up from where he was sitting on the stairs, halfway up.  Greg saw the movement and turned to look at Mycroft who was staring at him as he slowly walked down the stairs.  His blue eyes taking him in, and taking him apart, deducing everything, from the wrinkles in his old shirt, to the second day worn trousers, he crinkled his nose and Greg smiled.  He obviously does not like the smell of the mass produced soap they used at the Yard.  Mycroft saw the smile and blushed, knowing immediately that Greg knew his distaste for the soap.  Greg's smile disappeared as he walked down and he realised the reason he was here. 

“You waited for me on the stairs?”  Greg asked. Mycroft looked away before he nodded and then turned back to Greg.

"I made coffee, and some toast." He said softly, holding his hand out towards the kitchen.

"Thanks.  I am a bit hungry actually."  Greg followed Mycroft to the kitchen and couldn't help but feeling like he was a visitor, which he shouldn't, since he lives there, but maybe it is just the tension.  Once inside the kitchen the smell was stronger and Greg was feeling okay enough to eat.   He sat down at the table with Mycroft opposite him, Mycroft poured the coffee and Greg put a few slices of toast on his plate. 

“Thank you."

"You're welcome." A heavy silence descended upon them as they drank in silence.  They spread the butter on their toast, with whatever else there was, jam, marmalade, cheese, or nothing.   They ate in silence, each one trying to figure out what to say.

Mycroft knew he had to start; he had to take responsibility for this.  He swallowed the food and took a sip of his coffee, preparing him for the worst. 

What came out of his mouth however, wasn’t what he planned. 

"It was December 2012, you had a double homicide, and it was just after midnight.   Sherlock was making problems again, he overdosed and you spend the entire night making sure he was okay. The morning you had to go to work and showered there.  I came by to thank you and your hair was still half wet from the shower, the soap smell was appalling and didn't smell like you at all. Just like now." He added as an afterthought. 

Greg frowned, confusion all over his face.  Mycroft gave a slight chuckle. 

"It's still the same brand, and it doesn't smell like you." Mycroft said. 

"Well, I'm sure the Yard is not going to buy the Salted Caramel deluxe edition you prefer.  Why of all the memories that you have of me, that one came up?"

"Because, it was in that moment that I realised something."

"Realised what?"

"That I have never hated anyone in my entire life as your wife."

"Excuse me?"

"You had a fight the previous day, and instead of making it up to her, you looked after Sherlock, which upset her even more, instead of caring for you, or just asking if you're okay, she didn't care, and I so wanted to be in her position just so that I can do what she should've done"

"To not care?" Greg asked unsure of what was happening.  Mycroft shook his head.

"To be married to you and care, care about your wellbeing,  to care enough to bring you  a clean set of clothes,  to tell you how privileged I am to be married to you,  to hold you,  to tell you everything is going to be fine,  to know how lucky and fortunate I am to have you in my life."

"Mycroft...."

"And now I am, and I didn't."

"Didn't what?”

"Bring you a clean set of clothes,  tell you how privileged I am to have you in my life,  to tell you last night I'm sorry and everything was going to be all right. I didn’t do any of that, and I'm sorry."

Greg was speechless; he sat there staring at Mycroft who was looking down at his plate, only a small crust left, with crumbs littering the plate. 

"Do you think we can get past this?" Greg finally asks, and Mycroft reacted immediately.  His head snapped up, his eyes burying itself into Greg's.   His hands clutched together in fist his whole hand turned white. 

"Gregory." His voice sounded broken. Greg stood up and walked around the table to Mycroft sat, following his every movement.  Greg slowly reached out and took Mycroft's hand, pulling him up so they stood face to face.  Mycroft didn't think twice, he pulled Greg close into an embrace his arms tight around him. Repeating the words over and over.

"Yes. Please forgive me.  Please Gregory.  Please.  I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Greg hugged him back.  His head buried in Mycroft’s neck.

"Okay.  Okay. We'll get through this.  We’re going to be all right."  Greg was unsure how long they stood like that,  he was only aware of this man, this man he loves,  holding him as if he was the glue to his design.  They still need to talk about a lot of things, but he knows; they will be okay. 

 

 


End file.
